“That’s certainly an option for us to discuss Monday afternoon. But I can’t talk now, I have some things I need to say to Avery first.”
“I don’t think I should come back into the ballroom—I’ve lost my appetite. I'll find a hotel in town.”
“Just stay out of the resort bars,” Guy said.
“Here,” Jeff passed him an envelope. “It’s a contribution to the fundraiser.”
Guy nodded. The friendship he’d shared for years with Jeff would never recover from his deception but the man faced a tough road to rehabilitation. Guy had stared down enough of his own demons since his father’s death, to know he wouldn’t want to be in Jeff’s shoes. And, if he played his cards right, he’d get to keep Avery. He could afford to be generous. “Thank you. I'll see you Monday, we’ll deal with Go Green then.”
Jeff shook the hand he’d offered. “I’ll understand if you don’t invite me to the wedding.”
“There isn’t going to be a wedding—so you won’t miss anything.” Avery said from beside him, then walked away.
A sense of helplessness filled Guy. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
There wouldn’t be a wedding—they both knew that. Avery had never expected it—hell, she’d even told him that.
Avery settled herself down in the seat that had been intended for Jeff, so that the chair she’d been sitting on before created a no-man’s-land between her seat and Guy’s. She needed that dividing space right now.
Pushing her untouched plate away, she turned to Nancy and started to chatter about the coming ski season.
Inside she was seething.
How dare Guy tell Jeff that he loved her? Pretending he’d never doubted her, and that he’d accepted her word? Then without missing a beat, shaking the man’s hand? She’d half expected him to slap Jeff jovially on the back.
Men. Avery had stifled the urge to yell at Guy like a fishwife. To be honest, she’d wanted him to floor Jeff.
“Avery, we need to talk.”
She’d been so engrossed in her murderous thoughts she hadn’t heard him come up behind her. To buy herself time before responding, she leaned sideways and reached for her half-full wine glass and took a long sip of the apple juice it contained to fortify her for the “talk” he wanted.
He slid into the vacant seat beside her, the seat she’d deliberately left open. Putting his arm around on the chair back behind her, he leaned forward.
“I wish I could’ve spared you that unpleasantness.”
Before she could respond Erica was beside them. “Sorry to interrupt…Guy you should be up on the stage. The bidding is about to begin. Have you forgotten you pledged to prepare a meal for two?”
He turned his head to his half sister. “Give me one minute.”
“There isn’t time,” Erica protested. “Not now.”
Guy raked his hand through his hair and gave an impatient sigh. “Okay.” The blowtorch force of his gaze landed on Avery. “And don’t even think of running out on me again. Do you understand?”
She nodded, still furious, but glad that she’d been spared a public confrontation.
Guy followed Erica onto the stage.
Avery still couldn’t believe Guy had shaken that jerk’s hand. She was glad he was gone.
The first item to be auctioned off was a case of French red that went for a staggering sum of money. A weekend in one of the private, fully staffed, Jarrod Ridge lodges with a balloon ride and other trimmings went next.
Guy was up a few minutes later.
Back in New York Guy had promised to prepare her a feast in person. It had never come to pass. And now it never would. But a couple of complete strangers would enjoy his ministrations.
Gathering up her bag, Avery said goodbye to Nancy and her parents, and pushed her chair back. Skirting the edge of the ballroom she left the glamorous event.
She couldn’t bear to watch.
The Sky Lounge was deserted.
For the baby’s sake, Avery ordered a cup of hot chocolate rather than coffee or tea and retreated to a high-backed armchair in the corner by the floor-to-ceiling window. Kicking the ballet flats off, she tucked her feet beneath her, taking care not to put too much weight on her ankle, and stared out through the glass at the pinpricks of lights that twinkled in the darkness outside.
The day after tomorrow she would be gone.
She placed a hand on her stomach.
“Then it will be just you and me, baby,” she whispered.
A picture of Guy as he’d looked on stage, debonair in a his perfectly fitted tuxedo filled her mind. That was how she would forever remember him. The bartender set her chocolate down on the round table in front of the armchair and Avery smiled her thanks as she picked it up.
Fleetingly she wondered how much Guy’s donation had sold for. Cradling the mug in her hands, she pictured the lucky anonymous couple he would entertain and feed.
Avery grew still.
Was that it? Was it easier for Guy to cook for complete strangers than for a lover? Cooking for a lover implied caring. Guy didn’t do caring—it smacked too much of commitment. She’d fallen for a man who was as far removed from her family dream as it was possible to get.
Then she remembered his over-the-top concern for her at the hospital.
That hadn’t been the reaction of a carefree, commitment-fearing man.
Some men fuss when they’re worried.
She stared thoughtfully at the frothy cream on the top of the hot drink. Even the receptionist in the doctor’s rooms had noticed Guy’s concern about her. And his every action since had shown his concern and caring. Why?
Thank God you’re safe.
That’s what he’d said to her after he’d climbed in behind her in the spa and held her like he never intended to let her go. Avery took a sip of the drink, barely tasting it. Was it possible that Guy really did love her? He’d told Jeff he did but she’d been too angry to take it in.
Yet he’d never told her.
Perhaps he was one of those men who couldn’t talk about love. Her head drooped. Then she rallied. It wouldn’t be the same as the love she felt for him…but it was a start. She could work on it.
Like the shifting of the brightly hued splinters of a kaleidoscope the fragments of a new vision were forming.
Had Guy been irrationally afraid she might die?
His mother had died…
In the same hospital? Could it be that he’d envisaged his worst childhood nightmare recurring?
He’d never had a chance to say goodbye to his mother….
And she’d walked away from him in New York without saying goodbye.
What had he said just before he’d gone up on stage with Erica? And don’t even think of running out on me again. Do you understand? And what had she done? She’d promptly walked out and retreated here to the Sky Lounge. She’d left.
Again.
Horror filled her. Guy would believe she didn’t care. If Guy truly loved her that would hurt, maybe cause him to withdraw behind the lighthearted mask that she was starting to detest.
Hastily she slipped her shoes back on and rose to her feet, only to stop in her tracks at the sight of Guy coming toward her.
The expression of apprehension on Avery’s face caused Guy to rethink his plan of sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to his suite so they could have uninterrupted time for the talk he was determined to have with her.
Then he threw caution to the winds. He beckoned. “You’re coming with me.”
To his surprise, instead of arguing, Avery trotted over to him as quietly as a lamb.
“I shouldn’t have left.” The words bubbled from her. “I told you I was staying—then I didn’t.”
Guy shot her a puzzled look, but capitalized on her momentary meekness by grasping her hand in his. Her fingers tightened around his own.
“To hell with it.”
She squeaked as he lifted her high into his arms, and strode out of the Sky Lounge ignoring the stunned expression of the bar staff.
It didn’t take them long to reach the elevator to the private suites, and once inside the silence was electric. Guy gazed into her eyes. “We are going to talk.”
“Yes.”
“And you are going nowhere.”
She nodded.
“You’re not leaving, understand?”
“Yes, Guy.”
“Good,” he purred hoping that this unaccustomed subservience would last a little longer.
When the car came to a stop, he exited with Avery held high against his chest. Once through the hallway, he turned left and marched past the arched windows that looked out onto the starlit sky.
When he halted outside his suite, he said, “The access card is in my pocket.” Then steeled himself as her fingers fumbled in his dinner jacket. Avery swiped it in the key slot, then he pushed the door open. Once inside the suite he closed the door, and let her slide down his body, before he leaned back against the heavy wooden door.
Avery narrowed the Barbie-blue eyes that had tied him up in knots. “Are you going to stand there all night long? Because it doesn’t look terribly comfortable.”
“I’m making sure you don’t run out on me. Tonight you’re staying with me all night long.”
He heard her breath catch.
Then she said gently, “You don’t need to worry. I have no intention of going anywhere.”
The stiffness in his clenched jaw eased a little, and he stepped away from the door.
“I only have one demand,” she said as she sank down on the sofa.
“What is that?”
“That you promise to trust me for as long as we are together.”
“I trust you,” Guy said with the solemnity of a vow. He knelt at her feet and picked up her left hand. “And I hate to admit it, but you were right when you taunted me about being jealous. I was jealous. But only because you are the only woman it hurt me to lose. I didn’t know what had hit me.”
“You didn’t react when I said that Louis should take me on the picnic,” she pointed out.
“Your mockery made me realize how much of an idiot I’d become. I didn’t know what was happening to me. You’re a terrifying little thing, you know.”
She gave a gurgle of laughter. “Little things can’t be terrifying.”
“You are. You scared me to death,” he confessed.
Avery leaned forward until the tip of her nose almost touched his. “You don’t need to be jealous—there is only you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Damn right you’re not going anywhere,” he growled. “At least, not without me.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
“That will be forever. I want—”
“Guy—” she placed a finger against his lips “—you don’t need to promise me forever. We’ll take it one day at a time.”
“But I want forever.” He bent his head and placed a kiss on the ring finger. “Tomorrow we will go shopping for a ring.”
“Guy!” Avery started to laugh. “You can’t just tell me that. You need to ask me to marry you first. It’s called a proposal.”